


It All Leads Back To You.

by ohohstarryeyed



Category: Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-24
Updated: 2011-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohohstarryeyed/pseuds/ohohstarryeyed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the “Drunken Confession of Love” square on my schmoop_bingo card. Beta’d by playfullips</p>
            </blockquote>





	It All Leads Back To You.

The lower level of the house is packed and Spencer sighs as he scans the room for any sign of Brendon and Ryan.

"A small party," Ryan had said with a hopeful look on his face as Spencer did his Math homework, "It's just Jon and us and a couple of Jon's senior friends."

Spencer had sighed and rolled his eyes but he knew how much going really meant to Ryan. He’d had a crush on Jon Walker for approximately forever and now Jon finally knew he existed.

"Fine," he had said not looking up from his text book, "but Brendon's invited too. If I'm spending the night surrounded by drunk as fuck seniors I need someone sane to help me make fun of them."

Except, now, he's completely misplaced Brendon in the crush of kids; most of whom he doesn't even recognise. He thought he saw him near the kitchen but that had been half an hour and god knows what Brendon was getting up to right now.

Surprisingly it doesn't take long to find out. Brendon crashes into Spencer as he's making his way past the den, stumbling a little and then throwing his arms in the air, "Spencer Smith, I have beer."

"You have--" Spencer narrows his eyes at the can in Brendon's hand, "Brendon, for fucksake you're _sixteen._ You're not allowed to drink."

"'s not a big deal Spence. 's not like my parents are gonna ground me."

Spencer sighs and takes the can out of his hand, pushing it at some random that walks past and loops his arm around Brendon's waist, "Okay, we're going home."

"No, but, Spencer, Spencer Smith, I want my beer back." Brendon looks sadly at his empty hand, "'s beer o'clock. Jon said."

"No, it's not beer o'clock. It's time to go home before I start punching people o'clock. Now let's go." Spencer leads him through the crush of people, texting Ryan to tell him that they're leaving and that he hates him as they walk.

Brendon's like a dead weight against Spencer. A dead weight that sings songs about evil wizards with shiny hair and magic hips who steal beer from poor unsuspecting princes, while petting Spencer’s face in a disconcerting manner that absolutely, positively does not make his stomach twist in want.. It takes all of Spencer's effort and willpower to get him to the car and get the belt buckled without strangling him. Spencer's expecting some epic karma to come his way soon.

\--  
For the most part Brendon is quiet the whole way to Spencer's house, occasionally breaking out in song but he's given up on mourning the loss of his beer so that's definitely a plus.

Spencer knows that if his parents see Brendon like this that they'll both be in deep shit. Well, scratch that, Spencer will be in deep shit. His mom will just make concerned noises at Brendon and feed him because Brendon's an evil mom stealer and--great. Spencer's inner monologue even sounds like Brendon now, Jesus.

Brendon’s warm and heavy against his side, giggling when Spencer puts his arm around him and unlocks the door with one hand.

“Spencer Smith. Your name feels funny on my tongue.” Brendon giggles, his breath warm against Spencer’s neck.

“Your mom feels funny on my tongue.” Spencer mutters, shutting the door silently and leading Brendon in the direction of the stairs.

“My mom hates me.” Brendon says sadly as Spencer starts getting them up the stairs, half dragging Brendon as they go.

“Hey,” Spencer tugs lightly at the ends of Brendon’s hair, “she doesn’t. She loves you.”

“‘s okay. ‘m beyond redemption.”

“Bren--”

Brendon starts giggling again, pressing his face further into Spencer’s neck and Spencer sighs, pressing his hand to the back of Brendon’s neck as they walk. He’s been trying to talk to Brendon about the family situation for _weeks._ He’s spent more than one night in Brendon’s shitty apartment while Brendon resolutely _doesn’t_ talk about it so it figures that now Brendon wants to open up.

Somehow Spencer manages to get Brendon upstairs and into his bedroom without either of them dying. He pushes Brendon down on the bed and tugs his shoes off and then pushes him over towards the wall so he can get in next to him.

Brendon’s rolls back over and presses his face into Spencer’s neck. “‘s okay ‘cause I have you.”

Spencer pets his hair allowing himself to indulge just this once “Hey, dude of course. You always will.”

“‘s good.” Brendon’s breath is hot and wet against his neck and Spencer shivers a little, “I love you.”

Spencer freezes, his hand resting on the back of Brendon’s hair. “What? Bren?”

It’s no use though, Brendon’s already fallen asleep against him, his breathing deep and even. Spencer sighs, his stomach flip flopping and his heart beating faster. He wonders if it’s a trick, if Ryan told Brendon about Spencer’s weird crush thing and Brendon’s being a drunken asshole.

Spencer shakes his head a little and takes a moment to get himself together. He pulls the covers up so it’s covering both of them and closes his eyes. He can deal with this in the morning, for now, he just needs sleep.

\--  
Spencer doesn’t think anything of it when he wakes up the next morning and Brendon’s gone and he doesn’t think anything of it when he doesn’t hear from Brendon for the rest of the weekend. It’s not the first time Brendon’s worked a full weekend and hasn’t had the time or energy to text let alone hang out. However, when Tuesday afternoon rolls around and Brendon doesn’t show up for practise alarm bells start ringing.

Spencer borrows the car after dinner and heads over to Brendon’s apartment. He locks the car and then lets himself into the apartment building. The security door is still busted and Spencer glares at it just on principle then makes his way to the second floor.

He can hear the TV on in Brendon’s apartment so he knows that Brendon’s home even though he’s not answering when Spencer knocks. Spencer frowns and knocks again, louder and in perfect rhythm if he says so himself, and he does.

“I’m coming, hold on.” The door opens and reveal Brendon shirtless, a towel wrapped around his waist. “Oh, Spence.”

“What have I told you about opening the door without checking to see who it is?” Now that Spencer’s here and Brendon isn’t sick or dead or, like, being held for ransom, he finds that he’s kinda pissed off.

“Yeah, sorry Mom.” Brendon rolls his eyes, “Is there something you want? I’m kinda busy.”

Spencer raises an eyebrow, “You missed practise.”

“I know. I’m sick.” Brendon fake coughs and Spencer snorts, pushing his way into the apartment.

“I’m not dumb Brendon. Why didn’t you call or text? We were worried about you.”

Brendon makes a disbelieving noise, “Yeah okay.”

“What?” Spencer folds his arms across his chest, “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Spencer sighs, “Brendon, what’s going on?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Working, school, I told my best friend I love him and he doesn’t say anything back”

Spencer’s head snaps up, “Brendon.”

“No, look. It’s fine.” Brendon walks over to the door and opens it, “I know what you’re going to say so just save it okay? Just--give me a couple of days and I won’t miss anymore practise.”

“What?” Spencer crosses the room and pushes the door shut, “This--I’m not--what?”

“What Spencer? What’s so hard to figure out? I told you I love you and you didn’t say anything.”

“Because you were drunk.” Spencer’s voice comes out high pitched and slightly hysterical because seriously, _what?_

Brendon snorts, “I had half a beer Spence, I’m not that much of a fucking light weight. I’ve gotten more wasted on cough syrup.”

“I don’t--I didn’t--I thought--” Spencer slumps against the wall and takes a shaky breath, his eyes trained on the floor. “I--the thing is--I love you too.”

Brendon glares at him. “Don’t fuck with me. That isn’t funny.”

Spencer looks up when Brendon says that and it’s less what he said and more they _way_ he said it. Spencer hasn’t heard Brendon sound like that since he showed up on Spencer’s doorstep with two bags neatly packed with his worldly possessions.

“No, no, hey.” Spencer hurries over to him and reaches out for his hand hesitantly, “Not joking, I’m not--I mean it. I really, really mean it.”

Brendon looks up at him worriedly, like he doesn’t know if he can believe him and Spencer hates that because Brendon _can_ trust him, so he leans in and kisses him. It’s awkward and messy and Brendon’s glasses are poking Spencer in the face but it’s _kissing Brendon_. It’s everything Spencer has wanted for the last six months rolled into one moment.

Spencer presses Brendon against the closed door and rests his hands on either side of Brendon’s head, “Okay?”

Brendon nods, “Okay.”

“Good.” Spencer ducks his head and kisses him again, slower and gentler, taking his time to catalogue the feel and taste and the tiny noises Brendon makes in the back of his throat. Spencer knows they’re eventually going to have to talk about this but for now, there’s nothing else Spencer would rather do.


End file.
